heartache
by ARandomFangirler
Summary: infidelity /ɪnfɪˈdɛlɪti noun 1. the action or state of being unfaithful to a spouse or other sexual partner.


**ive found my niche and its fics with haruhi cheating on tamaki lmao. this has 0 reviews on ao3 so please review**

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"I want a divorce," Haruhi says on a warm summer's day. Their children, Giselle and Antonie, are at French tutoring, and Tamaki had been looking forward to spending the day alone with his wife for once. "I should've told you sooner."

"Ha ha," Tamaki says dryly, taking a sip of his cocktail. Haruhi often jokes that she wants a divorce - usually when he's spent far too much on a _darling dress_ for Giselle, his youngest and blatant favourite. It's not his fault that Giselle has just so happened to inherit his violet eyes, eyes that already break the hearts of her six year old classmates everywhere she goes. "Very funny."

"I mean it," she says firmly, and there's a conviction in her tone that makes Tamaki put his drink down and look at her. There is no lightness or humour in her features, only cold resignation, and he notices numbly that she's not wearing her wedding ring. He doesn't recall her taking it off. "I want a divorce, Tamaki."

He did not see this coming, except he did. Suoh Tamaki is not stupid, and he knew - scratch that, he _knows_ \- that he could never fully win Haruhi's heart, that some part of her would continue to ache for the twins and God knows who else from their Ouran days. But he'd thought, no, he'd _hoped,_ that almost ten years of marriage and two young children would've faded that ache for her, would've allowed her to forget the fleeting rush of teenage lust. For Tamaki, Haruhi has always been his first love, no further questions needed. For Haruhi, it isn't quite so simple. Yet Haruhi is no romantic, which begs the question, _who can't she forget after ten years?_

"I've been seeing someone," she continues. "Well. Not seeing him. But he and I have been talking, at least, and Tamaki, you will always be a great friend to me, and this isn't to say that I never loved you, but I think - no. I know. I know that I just can't do this anymore. I can't pretend."

With each word, his heart drops a little further, his emotions strengthen a little more. _I've been seeing someone._ Not in that way, or so she claims, but he still shudders at the thought of her discussing this with someone else, an acquaintance of his, perhaps, and them agreeing on the matter. Of course he'd noticed her frequent luncheons and long hours, but Tamaki isn't his wife's keeper. Still, he doesn't really believe her when she says that nothing is going on. Tamaki has be told by the Host club that he always feels too much, when it comes to matters concerning Haruhi. He thinks perhaps he is feeling just enough.

"Who is it?" he whispers. "Who is the man you've been talking to?"

Haruhi presses her lips into a thin line. She's wearing a different lipstick today, he notices with dull pang of self-pity, a brighter red than usual. She doesn't want to talk about it. Haruhi never does want to talk about such unpleasant matters. She's an immensely private woman. God, he's so tired of this, so tired of skirting around difficult questions and bad decisions and suffocating standards. Yes, above all Tamaki is tired. And he loves her, even still. But if Suoh Tamaki has learned anything from his father, it is that sometimes love just isn't enough, no matter how hard you try, and Tamaki has tried, and he has failed. Trying isn't much use in cases like these. There's a reason why his grandmother called him soft.

"You're not going to like it," she warns. As if there was a remote chance of him liking it in the first place. Haruhi has her lawyer voice on, the one that both sugarcoats and doesn't at the same time. The one she scarcely uses with him. The one he hates, because she sounds like Kyoya and his father and like Tamaki's father, of all people. He hopes that it isn't Kyoya. _Please_ don't let it be Kyoya. Tamaki thinks he's taking this rather well, all things considered, and if it's Kyoya, he most definitely will not. "Are you sure?"

" _You_ are the one asking for a divorce," Tamaki laughs bitterly. None of this is coming out quite right, he thinks. None of this is right at all. Tamaki, ever the relentless plotter and planner, has neglected this scenario. Murphy's law simply is what it is. "I think I have the right to know who pushed you to it."

"Nobody pushed me to anything," Haruhi snaps on autopilot, then softens. Tamaki's heart is breaking. She hasn't been herself in so long, he realises, and now she is finally remembering. Finally remembering that there are other places, other people, and that she is worthy of them all. "But you're right, you should know. The man - the man is Kaoru."

A Hitachiin. That much doesn't surprise him. The first name does, though. It has always been Hikaru that Tamaki has regarded as a threat; cruel, cold Hikaru, who's so intent on claiming what he deems his. But he'd been watching the wrong twin. Yes - it is all too easy to forget about Kaoru Hitachiin, he recalls, and he is filled with an uncharacteristic violent urge.

Tamaki has always failed at telling them apart. This time, his transgression is even worse.

"Kaoru," he repeats. "I don't understand." He does. Kaoru and Haruhi are both sensitive souls, no-nonsense yet still optimistic. And it had been with _Kaoru_ who Haruhi had said yes to that date in Karuizawa in different life to this one - not Hikaru, who was just a last-minute replacement. No, the problem is not that Tamaki doesn't understand, it's that he understands far too well, and he wishes he didn't. He wishes he couldn't see how Kaoru fills the ache in Haruhi's heart. It would be easier, then, to plead blind ignorance and to shift the blame. But it makes sense. All of this makes sense. Of course it does. This is Haruhi, after all, and logic is her weapon and idol, not cruelty for the sake of cruelty.

"You don't need to understand for you to accept it, Tamaki," she says. Her eyes aren't pitying, just sad. Haruhi is always so sad, he thinks. Maybe this is why. Maybe she is only ever happy without him. "You are still the father of my children. You are still the man I married. I did love you. I do love you. But not in the way I once did. Not in the way you love me. And I am not cruel. I don't believe in false promises. A marriage is supposed to be equal, and we are no longer equals, Tamaki. I think we stopped being equals just after the children were born."

"The children," he croaks, remembering them suddenly upon their mention. "What about the children?"

He truly _will_ cry if she takes his children. If she takes Antonie, who takes so much after his mother, if she takes Giselle, who still thinks her father is the bravest man in the world. Haruhi smiles, wan and weak.

"Don't worry," she says. "You can keep the children. You were always their favourite. Just - please don't make this any harder than it already is, Tamaki. Please don't be rude to Kaoru, or Hikaru, for that matter. He is only a small part of why I'm doing this."

"And you love him," Tamaki states. It isn't an accusation. She hesitates, then nods.

"And I love him," she says. "There will be someone else for you, I promise. There always is. You have always been a charming man. There will be a life after."

 _I don't want someone else_ , he thinks. _I want you. I only ever wanted you._ She's walking away, and God, he wants to wake up now, he wants to believe that none of this is real. It is. It _always_ is, when it comes to Haruhi. He can never quite conjure the real thing in his dreams, and that is how he knows that this is reality. Life comes at you fast.

He supposes, after today, he will dream of her no longer.


End file.
